Chapter 3

The silence inside the car broke when Xavier reached into the cooler. He twisted the cap off a glass bottle of water and handed it to me.

I held the bottle carefully, hesitating to even take a sip.

I knew this label. This stuff was liquid gold. Even back when I was trying to act rich to impress my rivals, I never spent money on water like this.

It was just another reminder that his wallet and mine lived in different universes.

Xavier surprised me, though. In magazines, he looked cold and serious. But sitting here in the car, he was actually pretty chill.

It was a real shame that my plan to marry into this family had crashed and burned.

The silence in the backseat started to feel heavy, so Xavier spoke up. "How are they treating you so far? Is the benefits package treating you well?"

I nodded quickly, eager to please. "Oh, definitely. Lynch Group pays really well. It is a big step up for me."

Xavier looked at me. "Is it enough to cover the cost of living in Jaronburg?"

I decided to drop the act for a second. "Honestly? I bought a condo on impulse a while back. After the bank takes my mortgage payment every month, I'm barely scraping by."

Xavier went quiet. He was probably trying to imagine what it felt like to worry about a bill.

The streets were empty at that hour, so we flew through the city. Before I knew it, the car was idling in front of my apartment building.

I stepped out and ducked my head back in. "Thanks for the ride, Mr. Lynch. I'm going to work my tail off on that bid. I won't let the team down."

Xavier's eyebrows shot up. He probably didn't expect a pep talk at midnight.

A slow smile spread across his face. Then, to my surprise, he opened his door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"Come on," he said. "I'll walk you to the lobby."

My heart started racing. It was late, and the street was dark and empty.

But I wasn't brave enough to say no to the boss.

A week ago, I might have deluded myself into thinking Xavier was interested in me.

But after the embarrassing mess with Gabriel, I had learned my lesson.

I wasn't stupid anymore. If Gabriel was too good for me, Xavier was impossible.

He was ten years older and richer than I could ever imagine.

I forced myself to kill any romantic thoughts before they started.

We walked to the front door of my building. Xavier stopped at the bottom step and looked up. "What floor?"

"Seventeenth," I said, my voice tight.

He nodded. "Go inside. I'll wait right here until I see your lights come on."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. He was just being a gentleman. Not wanting to keep him waiting, I hurried through the lobby.

The elevator ride felt like it took forever. Moments later, I was inside my apartment, flipping the light switch on. I rushed to the window to look down.

The darkness hid him from view, so I just hoped he saw the signal and went home safe.

*****

Fresh out of the shower, I slathered on a thick clay mask and curled up on the couch with my favorite show. Relaxation had just started to set in when an unread WhatsApp notification caught my eye.

Lynch: [Have a good night.]

Confused, I tapped on the profile. It was a ghost account—no photo, no bio, nothing.

Who was this guy? And when exactly did I add him to my contacts?

Then it clicked. Given everything that had happened tonight, the name "Lynch" could only mean one person.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard before I typed a nervous reply: [Boss?]

The answer came back instantly: [Yeah. Still up?]

My jaw went slack. Somehow, Xavier was sitting in my contacts list.

There was absolutely no memory in my brain of exchanging numbers with him.

I scrambled to sit up straight, feeling the sudden need to look professional even though he couldn't see me. I replied: [I was just going to bed. Thanks again for the ride, Mr. Lynch.]

A few seconds later, his reply appeared: [Heh.]

My heart skipped a beat.

What was that supposed to mean?

Was it a scoff? Or was he just annoyed with me in general?

While I was busy stressing out over that one little word, a string of voice messages suddenly appeared in the chat.

A cold sweat broke out on my neck. It was the same sinking feeling as seeing a missed call from a manager on a weekend.

With a shaking hand, I pressed play.

Xavier's voice filled the quiet room.

He said, "Bianca Clarke, I live downtown. Your apartment wasn't on my way. Not even close.

"So, take a guess. Why did I happen to run into you the second you clocked out? Why did I insist on driving you home? And why am I still talking to you right now?

"While you are at it, ask yourself why my number is already saved in your phone."

His deep voice lingered in the empty room. My mind felt like it was spinning out of control.

The best strategy seemed to be ghosting Xavier. If I stayed silent, maybe he would think I fell asleep. But before I could put the phone down, another text pinged.

It was an order: [Figure it out. Give me an answer. Tonight.]

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 11:30 PM, which meant "tonight" was over in thirty minutes.

Desperate to end this so I could sleep, I gritted my teeth and typed out the wildest thing I could think of: [Mr. Lynch, are you hitting on me? Because I really just want to keep my job.]

I hit send and closed my eyes, fully expecting him to roast me for being crazy.

But the phone stayed silent. The silence was broken, however, by the sudden ring of my doorbell.

A notification flashed on the screen.

Lynch: [Open the door. We need to talk.]

I thought I was going to have a stroke.

Horror washed over me as I caught my reflection. Green mud was drying on my face. My hair looked like a bird's nest. And I was wearing a flimsy slip dress.

To make it worse, my living room looked like a disaster zone.

Why was Xavier even still here?

Panic took over. I snatched a robe to cover the dress and twisted my hair into a messy bun in two seconds flat.

Then I went into cleanup mode. I scooped up armfuls of laundry and junk, shoved everything into the hall closet, and slammed it shut.

I sprinted to the door and swung it open. Xavier was standing right there.

He blinked at my green face, clearly caught off guard, but he didn't comment on it. "I don't like typing," he said simply. "And I don't have the patience to wait for you to connect the dots."

My heart was pounding so hard I thought he could hear it. I was terrified he was going to confess something romantic, and I had no idea how to handle that.

But he just stood there and asked, "Bianca, can I come in?"

I swallowed hard, stepping aside. "Sure, but I hope you don't mind that my water is the ninety-nine-cent kind."